


Service with a Smile

by Ladyelle



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Canon Timeline, Dubious Consent, F/M, Rough Sex, Rutting, Sex, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25630717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyelle/pseuds/Ladyelle
Summary: As always, thank you for being so patient lovely! ❤
Relationships: Haytham Kenway/Reader
Comments: 16
Kudos: 36





	Service with a Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VastSeaMind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VastSeaMind/gifts).



> As always, thank you for being so patient lovely! ❤

"Cup, saucer, pot, milk, sugar, spoon..." You recited to yourself as you carefully placed the items on the tray.

You'd done this more times than you could count, but after forgetting the sugar last time and being docked a month's wages for your mistake, there wasn't any chance you were going to let it happen again, as measly as the money was. You were one of two free servants here, so every coin you earnt was your own, and although everything was provided for you- food, lodgings ect, you still had to pay for clothing and any other amenities you should need, and as you didn't want to be doing this forever, savings, to find a place of your own when the war was eventually over. You didn't _want_ to work in a fort, but jobs were so scarce thanks to the battles going on beyond the walls, and you had to take what you could get.

Wringing your hands together to stop them from shaking so you could carry the tea without any mishaps this time, you waited a moment for the clock to chime one and left the kitchen to do your duties, carefully navigating the bustling hallway to the guest rooms. It wasn't the job that made you nervous, but the man you were attending. You'd seen your share of captains and lieutenants, even an admiral once, but this man was more intimidating than all of them put together. He dressed oddly for a place like this for starters, no uniform that you'd become accustomed to seeing daily, but elegant cloaks and grand hats, and proper shoes becoming of a gentleman. Actually, come to think of it you'd only seen him wear the one outfit, so you had no idea if he dressed like that all the time. He also came and went as he pleased, and how he spoke to the captain of the fort? You'd think he ran the place -barking orders and demands viciously enough to make any man cower in his boots. None dared defy him, and what do they do should they displease him? Call him, Grand Master or something like that, and literally beg for forgiveness, along with immense gratitude that he'd let them continue living their miserable lives. All of this and more couldn't compare to the exact reason you were tenterhooks in his presence though. It was because he was the most superior Alpha you'd ever met, which was something considering where you were stationed. And you? The only of age Omega on staff. Mrs Dalton, the housekeeper, had kept you away from unwanted wandering hands and eyes thus far, locking you in your room during your heats and warding off any soldier that might try to take advantage of you, reminding them of the rules and shooing them away in a motherly fashion. _'Ill have none of you manhandling my staff!' Spend your coins at the whore house, or I'll introduce you to the cook's knives!'_ She'd say, which was always amusing, watching a middle-aged woman yell and waggle her finger at full-grown men.

Apart from the one incident, you'd done your job well which earnt you the privilege of a protector, staying unnoticed like a church mouse skittering in and out, hiding in the shadows as not to disturb any matters going on at the time. But the lure of an exceptionally handsome, dominant Alpha within your midst was making it a lot harder recently. If anyone asked if you had fantasised about him in an unbecoming way, your face would give you away instantly. You could feel your cheeks getting warmer even now as you stood outside the door and listened avidly to determine if he had company, before carefully turning the handle when there was nothing but silence, keeping your head low as you ventured to the middle of the room and set the tray on the table in front of the fireplace. The first thing you noticed was how much perfume had been sprayed around the place. You couldn't smell anything else, your eyes were close to watering, and you could even taste it while you stirred the pot to make sure it had steeped exactly per the gentleman's instructions. As you poured the tea, you took a moment to look around because you'd been told that the esteemed guest would be staying longer than he had previously, but what you hadn't known, is that this time he had brought some of his own furnishings with him.

This was now the most lavish room in the entire fort. Its bare stone walls now adorned heavy drapes and portraits; of men that you had no idea who they were, the weathered, old desk had been replaced by a larger version made of polished wood, there were now two comfortable looking chairs either side of the table you were currently pouring tea from, and the bed nestled in the corner had already been made up with plush cushions and blankets to stave of the impending cold weather, which there was really no need for as you'd already noticed that it was warmer in here than anywhere else, even without the fire being lit.

Using the spare spoon you had the foresight to hide in your pinafore, you scooped out a stray leaf that had made its way into the cup and set a lump of sugar atop the silver spoon that was resting on the saucer, and carefully carried it over to the desk, making sure you didn't disturb anything as you set it down.

"I'm glad to notice there is continuity here. The staff are as incapable as the soldiers."

W-Was he is talking to you? Not once had he ever spoken to you directly. You began to panic, scrutinising the tea and once you were sure it was correct, trying your best not to look witless while your gaze darted around to determine in there was anyone else in the room that you hadn't noticed; which of course there wasn't, only yourself, and the gentleman who hadn't once looked up from his missives.

"S-sir?" You queried.

You stood there waiting patiently until he had finished writing, and it was a good job you didn't have any specific task to do until later today because instead of replying he merely lay down his quill, and picked up his cup, leisurely sipping the hot liquid until it was nearly gone. It seemed like an age before he eventually spoke, and frankly, he looked momentarily surprised that you were in the same spot, dutifully waiting as any decent servant was supposed to. It wasn't obedience that kept you there. However, it was pride and a stubborn streak that had nearly gotten you into hot water on several occasions. If you were being accused of something, you sure as hell wanted the chance to either contest it or rectify and make sure it didn't happen again.

"That is refreshing to see at least. I was referring to the order I gave Mrs Dalton the last time I was here. Your bonnet? That ridiculous thing is distracting while I am trying to work, bobbing all over the place. I asked that you remove it in my presence."

How childish and trivial! Here you were, fretting that you had done something wrong and you were going to lose pay again! Not this time, you were going to defend yourself, especially when you knew nothing about the matter in question.

"I wasn't aware of your request, sir. I apologise," you aired somewhat confidently, keeping your composure even when he placed down his empty cup and got up to stand right in front of you. 

He enjoyed keeping you waiting, so it seemed, and the longer he stood there mere inches away from you, the faster your conviction wained. You were becoming, not uncomfortable, but incredibly wary of just how close to you he was.

"You misunderstand. It was not a request."

You found yourself unable to speak, and your tongue felt dry as he slowly raised his hand to under your chin, winding the ribbon there around his fingers and pulling on it so slowly you could _feel_ the sensation of the fabric rubbing against itself run through you, making you unintentionally gasp as the bow popped undone, and he tugged the bonnet from your head, dropping it onto his desk.

"There. Much better, wouldn't you say?"

A slight of a nod was all you could manage at that moment, you were distracted by how fast your heart was beating, and the warmth rising from your chest to your face. That gesture, as simple as it was, you found it incredibly sensual, and your keen Omega body was reacting to it in a conventional way, whether you wanted it to or not. As hard as you tried to keep your gaze on the desk, you couldn't stop it from drifting upwards. First landing on the deep, red tie around his neck, then his slightly parted lips with heavy breath that smelled of sweet tea, and finally his eyes, cold blue steel that were twinkling with mild amusement. 

"My, it has been quite some time since anyone has looked at me like that. Such thoughts for someone in your position."

Your momentary fluster quickly turned to anger when he chuckled, sharply turned and resumed his seat at his desk, picking up his quill and continuing writing as if the whole interaction never happened—looking at him, how? Loathing for him mocking you? Or annoyance for him removing your bonnet that would surely get you into trouble with the commander, because if you didn't know about this demand, you were sure that he wouldn't either. Not wanting to spend a second longer in this sickly smelling room with the most arrogant man you'd ever met, you left the tray where it was and walked towards the door, stopping with your hand on the latch as you were 'summoned' back.

"(Name), aren't you forgetting something?"

Quickly snatching up your bonnet that he pointed to with the end of his pen while he was still reading, you barely heard his next order over your pulse now ringing in your ears, only catching the end, something about he wouldn't be here later so don't bother bringing him dinner. You wanted to slam the door behind you but thought better against it as you were already becoming more memorable than you wanted to be, instead, closing it carefully and slumping against the cool, stone wall next to it. At the same time, you put your hat back on before anyone saw, and contemplated on why he made an effort to know your name.

Thankfully, the rest of your day was pretty uneventful, filled with menial tasks such as tending to soldiers wounds; along with swatting away roaming hands, cleaning up after cook, and to your dismay, dusting, which was pointless here, as the wind coated everything in dirt again moments after you'd finished. But now, it was the best part of the evening. The commander had several 'distinguished' guests arrive, and impromptu drinks were served with dinner, so that meant the staff on duty got to sneak the dregs at the bottom casks, which most took advantage of, including yourself. A warm haze crept up your body as you set down your now empty, second mug of ale, something you now wished you waited for as you spied the stable boy sneaking past the kitchen door with a bale of something white in his arms.

"Timothy? Where are you going?" You asked in a hushed tone, as not to get him in trouble because he was skating on thin ice as it was.

Following him out into the corridor when he looked panicked at being spotted and tried to skitter off, you caught him by the ear and dragged him back firmly, putting your hand on your hip like Mrs Dalton would to convey your seriousness. You weren't his boss, but you were older, so that gave you minor seniority.

"Ow! Gerrof! Ain't doin anything wrong this time, promise! That Kenway fella gave me two coins to fetch him some clean linin, that's it, I swear."

Strangely, you had the sense he was telling the truth this time, but your brow creased in confusion for several reasons. The man in question said himself that he wouldn't be here this evening, which is why you never took him any dinner, his bed was freshly made mere days ago, so unless he slept in it fully clothed and in his boots after rolling around in the mud outside, it shouldn't need changing yet, and why was he asking the stable boy instead of a maid? It was all very bizarre. Though this was your duty, not his, so letting go of Timothy's ear and snatching the bedclothes out of his arms, you shooed him towards the kitchen; which he did sullenly while rubbing the side of his head, tucking the bundle underneath your arm and heading towards the guest rooms.

By the time you had made it to the 'Grand Masters' room, you had begun to wish that you had just let Timothy bring the sheets, as something hadn't felt quite right since you entered the corridor. You couldn't put your finger on it, it was a strange sensation, the kind that made the little hairs at the back of your neck stand on end, and it had only gotten worse the closer you were. Only silence returned when you gently knocked on the door; getting the same result when you did it again a bit louder, so you opened the door just enough to let yourself in, pausing in the doorway when an incredible heat slapped you in the face, along with the same stench from before. It was getting hard to breathe as your eyes focused to the dimmer light, settling on the fireplace which was the source of the inferno, considering putting it out as the room appeared to be vacant as expected.

"Leave. Now."

You almost dropped the bundle you were carrying in shock when the two words came out of nowhere, quickly regaining your composure and nearly strangling yourself by ripping off your bonnet as you somewhat recognised the voice. However, it was a lot fiercer than you'd become accustomed to, but you chalked it up to not being able to determine where it came from.

"Mister Kenway? Sir, I have brought you some clean-"

"I said, LEAVE!"

Even though you should have fled at that point, you stayed rooted to the spot and tried to crane your neck to see around the chair in front of the fire that you were now convinced he was sitting in, as it sounded like he was in pain, and you couldn't in good conscience leave while he might need tending to. You'd seen enough severed limbs, gashes and impalings to last you a lifetime, so whatever was wrong, it wouldn't be more than you could handle, and he wasn't stubborn enough to not let anyone fix whatever it was surely? Going against all of the alarm bells ringing in your head, you silently tiptoed forward intending to catch just a glimpse to see if he was alright, but your jaw dropped with a gasp, and you couldn't look away once he filled your vision. He'd obviously expected you to follow his order as he didn't bother to make himself presentable for being seen, content with his head thrown back, eyes closed, and in the most dishevelled state you didn't know the man was capable of being in.

He wasn't resting on the chair properly for starters; one leg was stretched out towards the fireplace while the other was dangling over the side, his clenched hand was relaxed on his lower stomach where his breeches were unfastened, partially visible under the hem of his shirt which was torn from neck to navel, most of his hair had fallen from its ribbon and was now soaked with sweat; stuck to his face in places, and he was murmuring something so faintly, you couldn't even hazard a guess what he was trying to say. He almost, _almost_ , looked vulnerable. That moment everything that was tumbling in your mind fell into place- his slight risqué comment this morning, the abundance of perfume and incense in his room, and his asking the stable BOY to bring him linin. He was starting his rut and doing everything he could to hide it.

He'd done an exceptional job of it too. Usually, you could sense such things days before they happened, which gave you time to prepare for an onslaught of unwelcome desires. But the masking of his scent and his lack of change in demeanour had kept you thoroughly in the dark, until now. Attempting to discreetly cross your legs under your petticoat to stave off your natural inclinations had you stumbling and nearly falling into his lap; which went unnoticed thank the stars, so you didn't try again. Instead, you dropped the contents of your arms onto the desk and took a timid step closer, the tug of war between your head and your body keeping you at just further than arms reach, but your common sense was rapidly losing the fight. You had never been with a rutting Alpha before; you'd heard so many whispers of how dangerous they were when unbonded, so you'd kept well away. But this time you didn't want to, you couldn't, his allure so potent it was if someone or _something_ was controlling you, and before you knew it, you were on your knees next to him, reaching out to touch his face. Your fingertips were less than an inch away from his cheek when his eyes snapped open, and he grabbed your wrist as you went to jolt it back, the hypnotising pools of swirling quicksilver glaring at you keeping you in place, and had you unwittingly holding your breath while you waited for the consequences of your actions.

"You're not afraid of me," he eventually growled, his features softening to something more, curious than fierce.

 _Was that a question?_ You let him draw your wrist to his cheek and hold it there; the slight prickle of his day-old facial hair sending a pleasurable tremor up your arm, smiling gently as he inhaled your scent and, the apparent soothing effect it had on him, marginally aware that he _was_ waiting for you to reply, which was difficult, as you could barely think straight as it was.

"No, sir. I'm not afraid, and I'm not leaving."

"A poor choice."

It felt like your arm had been wrenched out of its socket as he viciously grabbed you and pulled you into sitting in his lap, but your moment of discomfort soon subsided when he held you by the waist to stop you from moving and buried his face in your cleavage just above your stay, a startled gasp tumbling past your lips as he lustfully kissed and nipped at the soft skin. As he ventured higher towards your neck, you bowed your head because you thought he was going to kiss you, but to your surprise when he reached your chin, he ignored your mouth and went down the other side, his petting becoming more frantic with each passing second. You had little time to ponder if you were bothered about being kissed or not because now he had your hand and was guiding you to where his breeches were undone, your entire body clenching with excitement as your fingers instinctively closed around his pulsing length. He was scorching under your palm, unbelievably hard, and more than your imaginings from what you could tell, but not obscenely so. As you couldn't see nor do much because your skirts and his shirt were covering everything and getting in the way, your first few strokes we're little more than fumbles, which didn't help with your rising nervousness either. You could tell he was getting even more aggravated, especially when he tried to undo the laces of your dress but managed to make them tighter and turn them into a knotted mess, your breathing now restricted to short little gasps which were making you lightheaded. Between your inexperience with a rutting Alpha; even your natural instincts lacking, and his lust fuelled craze, this was not going well at all.

One thing you did know is that you had to loosen your stay before you passed out, so scrambling from his lap and getting up to standing, you reached behind you to attempt to untangle your ties, but your endeavours at relief were halted by being aggressively grabbed, spun around, so you were facing the desk, and bent over at the waist so now the entire top half of your body was pressed against the polished wood.

"S-sir, I-I'm not ready." You stammered when he wrenched up your skirts, so you were now completely exposed to him.

You had been completely chaste since coming to the fort a year ago, so anything was going to feel a lot after that amount of time, and since he had barely touched you, you were hardly aroused enough to take him without any pain, but your pleas fell on deaf ears, doing your best not to clench when he pressed down on your back to stop you from rising, and you could feel him rubbing his tip through your folds. Gritting your teeth when he repeatedly pushed and withdrew, shoehorning himself inside you, you closed your eyes and hoped it would be all over soon, the burning sting of your walls making tears sprinkle at the corners of your eyes. You felt like a fool as he gave you no time to adjust and started an unforgiving tempo; each thrust making your hips bang on the edge of the desk so hard you wouldn't be surprised if you broke bone, as you had been warned so many times that this could happen, but you ignored them all. Your friends at the inn had told you, Mrs Dalton had tried to protect you from this, you knew in the back of your mind that you shouldn't, hell, even **he** told you to go. But your curiosity and urges got the better of you, and now here you were, reaping the _rewards_ of your unbecoming behaviour. 

Pushing your back up to at least try and take some of the pressure off your chest only made things worse, a distinct tearing sound hitting your ears from somewhere around your waist and his hand that was digging into your back shot up to the nape of your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking your head back so you were now arched in an incredibly painful position, making you frantically grasp at anything to hold onto to stop him pulling further, but all you ended up with was handfuls of crumpled paper. You filled your thoughts with anything you could to take your mind off the pain when you could feel his knot starting to swell inside you- how you were going to stitch up your dress, the piece of fresh bread you were going to get for breakfast in the morning, but the grunts and groans from behind you soon brought you back to reality, that, and the one last roar before he shuddered and let go of your hair, laying on top of you as you hit the desk with a thud.

You just laid there, wondering if you were going to get into trouble for ruining his letters as his tired breath puffed against your cheek, but it was what he did next that surprised you the most. You expected indifference, or perhaps a scolding, but he merely nuzzled against you tenderly, grasping your hand and twining his fingers with yours as he pressed light kisses to your temple as you waited for his knot to go down so you could uncouple. He was a completely different man now he was sated and not ruled by his rut. His affections didn't last long, however, when as soon as he was able to move he slid away and quickly set to making himself more presentable before pouring two mugs of wine, placing one on the desk next to you while he sipped from his own. It took some doing, but you eventually managed to push yourself to stand and tug at the front of your dress, so it was semi-straight and gave you a little more breathing room, not daring to look him in the eye as you timidly picked up the cup and went to take a sip, but as soon as the liquid touched your lips, you knocked it back in a single swallow.

"It seems there is more to you than meets the eye, my dear. You are a credit to your presentation, of that I am certain. Your presence is requested again at this time tomorrow. Dismissed."

You took your mug with you as you quickly curtsied and left his room, almost running to your own, thankful that there was no one around this time of night to see you in this state. Slamming the door shut and making sure it was bolted, you dropped the cup to the floor and grabbed the pair of scissors that were on your dresser, and hacked at the laces that were binding you, taking several deep breaths when they finally gave, slumping on your bed when you began to feel dizzy. Now that you had no fastenings to undo, you began undressing as your thighs were unbearably sticky, staring at the gaping hole in your shift as you poured water into your basin and dipped a washcloth into it. Laces for your corset were easy enough to replace; light fingers in the laundry room should suffice, but the tear would take you several hours to repair by candlelight, so sleep tonight would be meagre at best. Not that you were tired at the moment anyway, already fretting at Master Kenways order that you return tomorrow. Even though he forced himself onto you, it wasn't without your initial permission, so did that mean you were allowed to say no this time? 

You had no desire to go through that again, your hips already turning black as you gently dabbed the wet cloth around them, and even though it didn't feel like you were torn between your legs, you were incredibly sore. Perhaps it would be better tomorrow? There was a kinder, gentler side to him; you had witnessed that with your own eyes, so maybe his rut was like your heat, at its worst the first day, and now he wouldn't be a slave to his lust? 

As it turned out, you were wrong.


End file.
